


Beneath The Waves

by Valerin Berenghar (Valerin)



Series: The Art Of Getting By [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29013495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valerin/pseuds/Valerin%20Berenghar
Summary: It felt strange to think that he’d been in the hospital long enough for Bucky to fill moving box after moving box with second-hand paperbacks. As if Steve didn’t hate his new body enough, the fact that the lengthy hospital stay had rendered them incompatible in the bedroom rubbed him raw.He knew Bucky would never call them that, but it was the truth, and there was nothing more he wanted than things to be like before. He wanted to make Bucky feel good, wanted, desired and he hated himself for not feeling even the slightest inkling to touch him even during his good days.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: The Art Of Getting By [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128455
Comments: 2
Kudos: 81
Collections: Stucky Bingo 2020





	Beneath The Waves

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Stucky Bingo 2020 where the prompt was _dubious consent_. This is my first fill for the challenge – and my first Stucky fic in four years – and I’ve figured out some minor plot between the prompts that I’m planning to fill, hence the reason as to why this story is part one in the series. If you like this verse and the characterization, subscribe to the series and buckle up, every fill is going to be rated explicit because that’s just the way I am. 
> 
> Last but not least, a thousand thanks to [@kayabiter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayabiter/works) who looked this over and polished this bad boy. All remaining mistakes are my own, enjoy and spare the tags a second glance. <3

Steve supposed it didn’t matter why or how it had happened. What mattered was that it was seemingly irreversible, and that life was currently this: a Brooklyn brownstone with a too-damp basement, pastel colored walls, and creaking floors. Since that alien bullet to the chest had launched him into early retirement, it had felt like it’d been high time to put all the back pay to good use, and Bucky – well, if the ten-hour furniture assembly could point any fingers, Steve figured he was excited over being back where they belonged.

“It’s looking good.”

Bucky turned to Steve, lips curling in a small smile. “You think one bookshelf is going to be enough?”

Steve eyed the moving boxes stacked high, knowing full well that the bottom four were filled to the brim with books. Peter had tried showing Bucky the beauty of ebooks and audiobooks, especially when he had ended up reading a book a day during the first few months Steve had been in the hospital, but apparently it was the feeling of paper beneath his fingers that solidified the experience.

“We might have to order another,” he said after a moment’s delay, ignoring the slight pull in his chest. It felt strange to think that he’d been in the hospital long enough for Bucky to fill moving box after moving box with second-hand paperbacks. 

Bucky wiped his hands on his shorts as he stepped out of the circle of assembly manuals, leftover parts, and ripped cardboard from the packaging, closing the distance and sat down on the couch next to Steve. A fresh, spicy air of aftershave wafted in his face.

Slinging an arm on the backrest, Bucky turned to him. “How about another trip to IKEA tomorrow?” 

“We’ve been there three days in a row,” Steve pointed out, lips stretching slightly as he looked into those deep, steely eyes, “the staff is going to wonder what kind of people we are.”

Bucky huffed an amused breath, eyebrows doing that unconcerned raise. “We can go to the other one—to the one in Queens.”

“Maybe,” Steve mumbled as he tried to keep the smile alive. 

The thought of tomorrow hollowed him out; it wasn’t a case of him not wanting their home to finally get organized after living a fortnight in a seemingly perpetual state of disarray, but he was worn to the bone. With the move it had been a series of long days and his new, much smaller body couldn’t even walk up one set of stairs before becoming winded.

Even months after the incident, everything still felt new and strange, unfamiliar in that distressing way that made him stop and think and feel. The latter was the worst because whenever he took a moment to calm down, he felt how everything that could ache, ached. 

“It’s almost time for your meds.”

Steve blinked out of his stupor, not realizing he’d been left staring. Bucky’s smile was nothing but a shell, worry setting his eyes ablaze, but the rest of him was contained. The arm slung on the backrest whirred, cold hand coming to weigh on Steve’s shoulder, palm fitting perfectly there. 

“You alright?” The question was nothing but gentle, matching well the comforting squeeze on Steve’s shoulder. 

The touch was electric – it sent Steve nodding like a freshly struck bobblehead. “Yeah, yeah,” he said between one breath and the next, willing his lips wider. “Meds and then let’s start dinner in an hour?”

Bucky bowed his head, restoring that lopsided smile again that colored his voice. “It’s a date.”

Steve pushed himself gingerly off the couch and plodded off to the kitchen, steps muted by the burgundy slippers. Streetlight filtered through the opaque blinds, rendering it unnecessary to reach for the light, and he maneuvered to the breadbasket on the faraway counter. Needless to say, it wasn’t bread they stored in that basket; there was a vague rattling as he pulled out the few bottles of medication he knew it was time for. 

Codeine for the pain. Sertraline for the anxiety. Carvedilol for his heart, and a bunch of other things he couldn’t pronounce or remember what they were for, only that not taking them meant a world of trouble. It was all written down though, Bucky had compiled everything on a piece of paper, written with the same slightly slanted cursive Steve remembered from before. 

As he glanced at the microwave clock, he figured it was a little earlier than usual, but he could already feel the muscles in his back cramping up; the bone-deep ache in his legs trickling into his consciousness; the weight settling over his heart like an elephant resting its foot there. 

It was better to feel nothing. Because that was what the medications did, wrapped the world in cotton and made everything else feel like a secondary thing, like it could wait. He took the medications as per the paper, downing the handful of pills with a big glass of water. The shadows shifted on top of the kitchen counter before him, but it wasn’t from a car passing on the street—

—still gulping, he half-turned to the archway leading to the hallway. Bucky leaned against the doorframe; smile, posture and air loaded with a sense of bashful anticipation. He was restrained in that charming way that made him look so much like the man from before, modest and at ease and looking like he had a cheeky suggestion right at the tip of his tongue. 

Steve lowered the glass, and Bucky parted his lips. 

“Do you want to hop in the shower with me?” 

“You don’t look too sweaty,” Steve said kindly, turning back to put the glass in the sink. 

“I’ve been wearing the same clothes for two days,” Bucky countered with a sheepish smile. There was a pause, a moment where the hopefulness almost made his eyes gleam in the dull light and then, “So, will you?”

“Sure.” The reply leaped off Steve’s tongue before his mind properly processed the question. Bucky’s smile turned devilish, and in turn Steve’s stomach clenched over nothing, a fizz of nervousness bolting through him. It was just a shower—nothing more, nothing less, he thought, but even in his mind it echoed false. 

Bucky let him pass in the archway before he turned on his heel, shadowing him into the hallway and up the first set of stairs. The proximity made his nerves crawl like a spider on his skin, dread chilling him from the inside out. But before he could dwell on why he felt that way, his feet turned heavier and heavier just seven steps up, and that snatched all his attention. 

Two days after their move, Steve had realized that picking the bedroom on the fourth floor wasn’t ideal. Not that he was going to confess that to Bucky, but it still bothered him to no end that the first set of stairs still sucked the wind right out of him. The deeper the breaths, the more he felt the weight on his chest – the constant squeeze that some days felt like it would crush his ribcage and turn everything within into minced meat. 

He tried to ignore it, just as he tried to ignore the flare of irritation that sent his blood boiling. The first set of stairs made each breath feel like the air wasn’t enough but didn’t prompt him to stop. Not even when he caught a glance of Bucky’s eyes suddenly gleaming with concern just when he took the first step onto the second set of stairs. 

Fueled by nothing but spite, Steve climbed the next thirty-something steps, breaths coming in more and more labored by each one. Once perched on top, he tried to ignore the way he felt lightheaded, heart pounding hard and unforgiving to the point it hurt. With the way his body sang in protest, he had almost missed the moment where Bucky had planted a hand at the small of his back, a barely-there pressure that Steve both hated and appreciated all at once.

“Maybe you should take a breather,” Bucky mumbled as Steve rounded to face the final set of stairs. 

“‘s—fine,” Steve said breathlessly, each breath punctuated by a low whistle. He took a short moment, actively ignoring the way Bucky looked at him – he didn’t have to catch a glimpse of him to know how concerned he was. 

In a half-hearted attempt to escape further encouragement from him, Steve took the first step. Not even more than a handful steps up and he slowed, Bucky’s touch becoming more of an urging push and that made everything feel worse. Months at the hospital had already dented his pride, his self-esteem beyond recognition, and even though this wasn’t something new, something unusual in their day to day life, it was still embarrassing. 

His face felt as if it was on fire once they reached the top. Shoulders coiling inwards, he tried to contain the sound of his labored breathing by breathing through his nose, which was easier said than done and only left him with a mounting sense of panic. 

“You alright?” Bucky asked, low and hushed, and it was definitely concern bottling over; Steve could hear it from miles away. 

He nodded jerkily, nostrils flaring as he sucked in a big, steadying breath and dove past Bucky, closing the last few steps into the bedroom, scurrying through to the master bath. All tight-lipped, he flicked on the lights, forcing his mind to focus on how warm the tiles beneath his bare feet were rather than how it felt like his heart wanted to come out of his chest. 

Out of all the things he missed without the serum, he missed being able to breathe without feeling as if his lungs would implode into a burning inferno. That less than a hundred steps wouldn’t leave him drained to the bone. The doctors had said that he could work up his stamina again, the physiotherapists had joined in on the prognosis, but after a month of daily walks on the treadmill and he still ran out of breath after even a quarter mile. 

“You good? Breath coming back?” 

Steve still couldn’t do much else but to nod, pointedly making sure not to face him, but he could see his reflection in the wide mirror above the double sinks. 

Bucky frowned, not looking all too sure. The silence wasn’t deafening – it was loud with the sound of his strained breathing, every other breath sucked in through his nose, the other through his mouth. Realizing that Bucky’s mounting worry wouldn’t decompress on its own, Steve turned around on his heel, shoulders rising with a deep, deep breath as he waved a dismissive hand.

It was fine. It was.

“You look a bit sweaty,” Bucky said with that careful half-smile. 

Steve managed a short-lived smile over the silly jest. He dragged the back of his hand over his forehead, feeling that hot flash of embarrassment burst into flames again. It was fine – he had climbed the stairs, there was no reason to make such a big deal out of it. 

“Better… get into… that shower then,” Steve said as calmly as he could, grounding himself in the thought that while he was breathing hard, at least it wasn’t followed by that horrible whistling anymore. 

With one eye on him, Bucky began pulling at his own clothes with a sense of ease Steve couldn’t help but envy. As if to shield himself from that, he turned away, but only ended up looking into the mirror instead where he saw how Bucky shed his clothes like they were on fire, more and more naked skin coming bare by each blink. He was big and tall and wide in every place that mattered, arm polished and ironically matching the black and gold details in the bathroom. 

Naked as the day he was born, Bucky propped the bundle of clothes down the hamper, met Steve’s gaze with a flashing smile, and then he was already sliding the glass door open to step into the shower. 

The sound of water storming down the drain made Steve jolt back into action. He stepped out of his slippers with a slightly more controlled breath before he slowly pulled off his clothes and half-heartedly tossed garment by garment toward the hamper, missing more than half his throws but not bothering to pick them up right now. 

The hot water was already steaming when he stepped into the shower, carefully reaching out to touch the falling spray. Out of all the rooms in their house, the master bathroom was probably the best one. With the rain showerhead, they didn’t have to hobble close like penguins to get beneath the water at once. Not that Steve minded being close, but it was nice to be able to shampoo his hair without the risk of getting an elbow in the face.

He let out a shaky breath as he stepped beneath the water, eyes coming close for a moment. When he opened them, he noticed that Bucky was staring back at him with a smile pulling on his lips. It took Steve another moment to realize that he was smiling, too. 

“I’ll never stop being amazed over this.” Bucky wiped some water out of his eyes, hand running up his forehead to push back those short, wet bangs. 

It had been Sam’s idea that Bucky needed a new haircut, but it had been one of the nurses at the hospital that had made sure it’d actually happened. With the argument that she’d been cutting hair in her family for years, Bucky had accepted the offer with a cautious smile, and Steve had watched the magical transformation from cave-man to polished hunk from the hospital bed. It was shorter than he could ever remember Bucky sporting back then, but he looked breathtakingly good. 

He took a step closer to Steve, kind smile morphing into a cocky grin. It made Steve’s heart jump in his chest, stomach clenching. This was still unusual – it shouldn’t be, but it was. If he didn’t crane his neck up slightly, he would be making eye contact with Bucky’s glorious pecs instead. He was a head taller, if not more, and Steve could swear that his biceps were about as big as Steve’s legs.

Ever since Thanos – ever since the incident with the alien bullet, Bucky had bent himself backward trying to get ready for the responsibility that came with being the new Captain America’s sidekick. He looked chiseled like one of those old marble statues, all beefy muscle and protruding veins; a stark contrast to the pale, scarred skin that stretched over Steve’s body and made every bone in his body look sharp enough to cut. 

“Meds coming to effect yet?” Bucky asked, words so close that Steve felt them brush against his lips.

“A little,” Steve said without thinking, but now when he thought about it, the ache in his bones was on a slow retreat. There was still the slight sting in his lungs when he breathed in through his nose, but the air was warm and moist, soothing his airway. 

Bucky hummed affirmatively, heavy hands coming to rest on Steve’s shoulders as he leaned in, lips brushing in the most modest of kisses. Stomach twisting into knots, Steve kissed him back – short and chaste, tasting the warm water. 

He pulled away, blinking droplets out of his eyes, and then Bucky was reaching back, habitually switching off the rain function in favor of the regular shower head. Without water rushing down on them, they soaped themselves up, the scent of honey and almond seeping into the air. Goosebumps blossomed over Steve’s skin and he crept closer to Bucky, bare skin touching as he awkwardly rinsed himself off. 

“Want me to wash your back?” Bucky asked.

“Please.” Steve managed a smile, and then he was already turning around, back facing him. He heard the click of the shower gel—the wet noise as Bucky lathered it in his hands, and then he felt those strong hands ghost over his skin. 

Goosebumps rose anew as Bucky ran his hands over Steve’s back. He could almost count every ridge of his spine as Bucky dragged his palms from his neck and down, and then to the side, following the nasty scars that pulled and ached fiercely in the morning when there were no pain-relieving chemicals left in his bloodstream. 

Tipping his head forward with a content sigh, Steve realized that everything was already starting to feel the right kind of fuzzy. When he sucked in a warm breath, the weight over his chest had eased somewhat. His lungs didn’t burn anymore. 

If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine things to be as it’d been before. When he had been strong and in good health, still fit to carry the title of Captain America and wield the shield. More often than not, he found himself thinking about that moment when he had returned Mjölnir and the infinity stones back to their time – the fact that he had even considered for a second to stay behind, to ruin Peggy’s marriage, and leave Bucky behind in a world Steve barely knew was… laughable. 

It had been a misguided thought born from a battle-weary mind. He had craved a break – a pause from the seemingly constant state of doom the universe always found itself in, and if there was a God or another almighty power that could grant wishes, they had turned his inside out. All it had taken was a bullet to the chest. 

_“Nngh,”_ Steve squirmed as Bucky’s stubble brushed by the side of his neck, sending his shoulders reaching for his ears. “I thought you said wash…” 

“I am,” Bucky mumbled against his skin, lips peppering soft kisses up to the hinge of Steve’s jaw. His hands skimmed down Steve’s sides, over his hip-bones and then down-down-down to his groin. 

Steve’s stomach dropped as if he was skydiving. He shifted back, meeting the full bulk of Bucky against his backside, throat suddenly desert dry as he tried to swallow. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Bucky’s words were a whisper against his ear. 

Steve shuddered, trying to swallow again as he became acutely aware of how Bucky cupped his balls and soft cock in one hand because even that had shrunk on him as well, courtesy of that laced bullet. It was a sterile touch, gentle and careful that stopped there. 

“‘s fine,” Steve croaked out quickly, barely hearing himself over the rush of blood in his ears. 

Bucky let out a sharp, almost amused breath, and then ran a soaped hand between Steve’s thighs, gently lathering the space behind his balls and carefully worked forward. Steve felt him peer over his shoulder, watching intently as Bucky soaped his sack and then his dick that managed to look even smaller in Bucky’s metal hand. 

It felt good, but not _that_ good, not enough to get him to harden.

Steve could feel the anticipation mounting and somewhere deep down, it felt like he owed Bucky this. The chance for him to feel good and whole and taken care of; there hadn’t even been a speck of intimacy between them as of late. There hadn’t been any time, any energy, and the last time he had seen Bucky’s erect cock, it had been when he’d accidentally walked in on Bucky treating himself to a late-night session on the couch back when they still lived at the rental place. Not that masturbation was forbidden in their relationship – it was just that since the incident there had been exactly zero sexual thoughts in Steve’s brain. It was almost as if he’d forgotten that that part of life existed; forgotten that Bucky had needs as well. Super-enhanced even.

When the serum had coursed through his veins, Steve’s appetite for sex had been seemingly insatiable – a hunger that had matched Bucky’s. Now they had become incompatible in that way; even though Steve knew Bucky would never call it that, but it was the truth, and there was nothing more he wanted than things to be like before. He wanted to make Bucky feel good, wanted, desired and he hated himself for not feeling even the slightest inkling to touch him even during his good days. 

The thought that he owed Bucky this urged him on, made him brave and daring as he slowly untangled himself from Bucky’s hands, turning around to face him. 

Bucky tilted his head to the side, eyes gleaming preciously. “Everything alright?”

Steve nodded, willing his face into a smile as he wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck and got up on his tiptoes, kissing him like it would be the last time. He poured everything and then some into the kiss, filling it with need and love and desperation. Filling it with want.

Their chests pressed flush, hips slotting together, and Steve gasped into the kiss when Bucky filled his palms with a handful of his ass in each hand, squeezing with that unchallenged strength that made Steve’s knees turn to boiled spaghetti. 

The kiss went from that closed-lipped slide to something more ravaging, more demanding. Tongues colliding, breaths stuttering, muted moans even penetrating the medicated fog spreading in Steve’s senses, arousal suddenly sparking low in his gut. 

Breathless, he pulled away and even though Bucky was nothing but a blur up close, it was impossible not to notice the way he shone like a goddamn sun. His devilish smile; the hazy, half-lidded eyes; content and loved and utterly beautiful made Steve lean in again, because suddenly it wasn’t air that was needed, but the touch of Bucky’s lips. 

They kissed with less haste this time. He felt the twitch of Bucky’s cock poking his abdomen, slowly growing by each peck on the lips. The touch sent Steve’s stomach squirming, heart galloping wildly, but when Bucky reached up for his wrist, he let himself be guided. 

Wrapping his lithe fingers around Bucky’s rock hard cock, Steve watched his face intently—watched the way his lips parted with a throaty moan, eyes closing in what couldn’t be anything but bliss. Bucky was huge and blood-hot and properly pulsing in his hand; a testament to how much he needed this, needed release. Perhaps Steve could jerk him off here and now, and then it would be fine. 

The first, gentle tug on Bucky’s cock earned him a hungry kiss, followed by a happy sigh. Steve shifted the slightest, coming down from standing on his tiptoes and allowing more room between them as he stroked Bucky slow and deliberate. Water still rushed from the showerhead, washing down the drain without any of them getting any wetter. 

The revelation that Bucky wanted _him_ bloomed at the back of his frantic mind. Most days, Steve wasn’t pleased with the man who stared back at him in the mirror, and he had spiraled from there – especially after catching Bucky taking care of his own needs. They could kiss, have a life together and make the day-to-day things work, but sex wasn’t on the agenda. It was his fault of course, for being sick and scrawny and not initiating, and perhaps this was what Bucky had waited for – a solid, undeniable cue. 

A bodily reply that said that he was ready to resume that part of their life again. 

Whirring slightly, Steve felt the slightest pressure around his wrist where Bucky was still grasping – not demanding, not commanding, but gently coaxing him on to do it faster, harder.

But before he could oblige, Steve felt the warm hand squeezing his buttock wander, the scratch of Bucky’s calloused palms against the delicate skin there. His heart stumbled over itself, body going taut like a drawn bowstring when Bucky’s soaped up fingers slid down his crack, circling his tight hole once—twice—

—mewling into the kiss, Steve arched against him as Bucky pushed a wet finger inside. It stung, but it was the twitch of Bucky’s cock in his hand that absorbed all his attention. The vivid idea of fitting Bucky’s stock of a cock in his ass with nothing but some soap and water made him dizzy, heart spasming in his chest so hard that it hurt. 

He couldn’t stop the indignant moan as Bucky thrust in, boring his finger in deeper despite Steve clenching hard around the intrusion. Pulling back slightly, Bucky was still a blur before him, eyes gleaming in the overhead lights. Staring into the depths of those baby blue eyes, Steve’s breath stuttered when Bucky gingerly pulled back his finger until it was almost all the way out. Then he thrust in again; an eager slide that made Steve startle, hands flying up to wrap his arms around Bucky’s neck again. 

There was an undeniable look on his face, a look that asked: _are we really doing this?_

“Not in the shower,” Steve mumbled as he blinked some water out of his eyes. Bucky kissed him in wordless confirmation, eager and hungry. 

Steve had to tear himself from that hunger, arms unwrapping and palms planted firmly on Bucky’s broad chest. He could feel the thunder of his heart beneath his hands.

“Let’s rinse?” he asked; the words were barely there, low and muffled by the sound of running water. 

Bucky smiled with his lips, eyes and soul all at once, bobbing his head in giddy reply. They kissed one last time, and Steve felt that finger in his ass pull all the way out, provoking that stinging pain that he promptly shoved to the back of his mind. He could do this. He was ready for this. 

They rinsed quickly, kissed as they patted themselves dry with those overly priced towels, and then Bucky hauled him up as if he was a bride ready to get carried over the threshold, taking him into the bedroom. Their room was draped in shadows, bed unmade and in cozy disarray. Bucky carried him without ever letting their lips part, carefully climbing onto the mattress, and maneuvering so that Steve laid beneath him, cautious not to put any weight on him. 

Steve felt boxed in beneath that cage of rock hard muscle and radiating warmth as they began kissing with the same fiery passion from before. The chilly bed linens knotted his skin tight, and he let out a displeased groan when Bucky pushed himself up to reach for the nightstand. The box opened with a slight scrape and then he pulled out the bottle of lube; there was the plastic click of it opening. 

Steve’s stomach dropped. The sight before him was otherworldly: Bucky sat back on his haunches, monster cock standing right at attention as he jacked the bottle up and down a few times, squeezing out the last dredges as the bottle wheezed. 

He looked focused, eager, excited; mouth curved in that cheeky smile that was positively radiant. Steve could see it even through the shadowlands that made their bedroom. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, and then he leaned over Steve again, the bottle of lube getting tossed somewhere. For all that hunger he saw in Bucky’s eyes, they kissed light and close-lipped, bodies not even touching except for where Bucky had his hand on his thigh, gently urging him to spread his legs. 

Steve felt his face go warm, imagined that he was flushing all the way down to his chest as it felt like he spread his knees obscenely wide for Bucky to scoot closer. His slicked up hand came to prod between Steve’s legs, cold fingertips dragging along the length of his cock and down his balls.

The goosebumps returned with vengeance, making Steve squirm into the sheets. It felt like the first time—it had been that long after all and for that, he felt guilt wreck through his chest. Before the incident, they had been like bunnies with the serum always leaving them hungry and aching for moments where they could lock themselves in a room and hang a sock on the door.

The mattress dipped as Bucky planted an elbow next to his head, leaning in close to kiss a trail over his cheek. Head and lungs full of that shower gel scent, skin buzzing with the touch of Bucky’s lips and for a blink, he almost blocked out where Bucky’s hand was going. But then a second wave of shivers rolled over his body when the slicked up fingers brushed by his hole, cold and huge against his still-tight rim. 

Steve shifted beneath Bucky’s muscular frame. He felt him smile into the kiss, and he tried to focus on that, the curve of Bucky’s lips, but it was impossible to not tense when the first finger pushed in, slick and thick, awakening that stinging pain once more. He willed himself to suck in a couple of deep, bracing breaths through his nose, hating the way it felt like it wasn’t enough. 

“Relax,” Bucky whispered.

It was easier said than done, the kissing a poor distraction with the way Bucky’s cock twitched against Steve’s spread thigh, blood-hot head pressing against the delicate skin there. If he struggled with this, how could he ever fit Bucky’s dick in there? 

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Bucky mumbled between one kiss and the next, worrying the clean-shaven skin beneath Steve’s jaw. The confession yanked on the strings in his chest, but he forced it out of his mind as he raked his fingers through Bucky’s wet hair, spraying droplets of water everywhere. 

Closing his eyes, Steve tipped his head back against the pillow, focusing on Bucky’s warm lips on his throat rather than the finger thrusting in and out of him. When he felt the second finger nudge close to the first, he pressed his lips together, steeling himself against the imminent burn, but a strained noise escaped him still as Bucky worked another finger in.

“You okay?” An inkling of concern colored Bucky’s voice, hand stilling. 

Steve hummed, forcing himself to relax through a couple of deep breaths, and then Bucky moved his fingers, a slow pull back and then an even slower push in. Then he did it again, and again, and again, slowly fucking him open with his fingers and Steve waited—hoped—prayed for that buzz of pleasure to awaken in his belly. For the blood rushing in his ears to rush all the way down to his cock that laid small and soft between his legs. 

Bucky must have read his mind because in the next moment, he inched himself further south. Fingers still a thrusting presence Steve couldn’t ignore, but they became a background thought as Bucky kissed down his jaw and the hard cords of his neck, tongue darting between his lips to lick along the ridged scar right beneath his collarbone and then down–down–down. 

Steve shuddered, body ablaze as Bucky kissed a circle around his groin, painstakingly avoiding his dick. It was filling now, slowly – the hot breath that washed over it made him acutely aware of it. 

But it was nothing compared to when Bucky cupped his cock, metal hand closing with a soft whirr and Steve tensed, breath catching wetly in his throat, heart running rabbit-fast in his chest to the point it burned. He just had to watch him – fingers coming to slide and claw through that hopelessly short hair, frustrated and flustered over the lack of purchase. 

It felt like the wind knocked out of him when Bucky slowly closed his lips around the soft head, cheeks hollowing out with the slightest suction.

Hare brain singling down to one sensation, all Steve felt was Bucky’s warm mouth around his dick. He forgot how to breathe when he looked down, seeing Bucky’s eyelashes fan long against his cheeks, metal hand gleaming slightly in the dull light, the way his plush lips wrapped snugly around Steve’s cock.

The view turned the ember of arousal into an inferno. Steve swelled hopelessly as Bucky tenderly sucked, bobbing his head up and down just the slightest to provide some delicious friction. Before long, he was fully hard in Bucky’s hot mouth, belly pooling with fiery want that flickered every time Bucky ran his mouth up and down, one hand working expertly on his cock, providing that firm, slow grip while the fingers in his ass grew to three.

It didn’t hurt. Not anymore at least. The feel of his fingers made Steve squirm, hips grinding down to meet those thick fingers that plugged him up, filling him in that way he hadn’t felt in such a long time. By each thrust, he could feel Bucky slide against that spot within him that felt so good; the spot that made him tense and gasp, sensations soaring into a sharp, filling pleasure. 

It grew little by little, thrust by thrust. Sharpening, maddening, aching – toes curling and eyes squeezed shut, all he heard was his own panting as he became a slave beneath Bucky’s ministrations. Everything he felt—everything that existed was the thick, thrusting presence of Bucky’s fingers stuffing him up and his perfect mouth, slowly coaxing him closer and closer to the edge. 

“I’m gonna come.” 

It took him a blink to realize that it was his own voice, desperate and frantic and breaking at the end. Fingers clawing at Bucky’s warm scalp, heels digging into the mattress, knees squeezing Bucky’s broad shoulders, and Steve felt the pleasure turn white-hot. His breaths trembled with that low, ominous whistle again, but he was so close—balls tight and practically aching for it. 

“I’m gonna come,” Steve croaked out again, more desperate this time. _“I’m—”_

—cold air washed over him as Bucky pushed himself away, mouth sliding off his cock with a wet pop, the fingers in his ass stilling. 

Eyes flying open, it took Steve a heart-wrenching moment to realize that he hadn’t come. 

“Please, _please.”_

He was so-so-so close, he just needed a little bit more—a little, a fraction of a touch and he would come. Fists buried in the sheets instead of Bucky’s dark hair, his knuckles whitened as he ground his ass onto Bucky’s idle fingers, desperate to feel that full sensation one more time. 

“Not yet,” Bucky mumbled, voice dark and low, filled with lust in a way that sent Steve’s wet cock jumping.

Tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, Steve merely whimpered when Bucky pulled out his fingers. He slung Steve’s legs over his shoulders, carefully bending him in half as he leaned over him, kissing him hungrily. In the corner of his eye, Steve saw how Bucky pawed at the sheets, finding that bottle of lube that apparently hadn’t gotten flung that far away at all.

Jaw hanging loose, Steve watched all bleary-eyed as Bucky slicked himself up, cock huge even in his big hands and Steve’s stomach squirmed hard enough that he could feel it in his throat, fully believing it wouldn’t fit. 

Bucky inched closer, blood-hot cock dragging down his balls and down his taint, spongy head pressing right at his stretched hole. Head swimming, Steve had never felt any smaller, and Bucky had never felt any bigger. The idea that he would fuck him like back in the days, hard and ruthless and with the goal to leave a mark, made Steve shiver as a cold ball of dread settled in his stomach.

Their eyes met the moment Bucky’s cock pressed tight against his stretched rim, gazes holding for a heartbeat—two, three, and then he looked down where they were touching, hips shoving forward as he pushed in-in-in.

Steve whimpered as if struck as Bucky’s cock carved a place inside of him, pushing through the resistance with a strength he could only dream of, cleaving him in two, filling him up with a restrained eagerness. 

It was too much too fast. He threw his head back so hard the pillow blew out a breath, a pained moan ripping past his lips as his hands flew up to press firmly against Bucky’s chest as if that would make him pause. 

And he did. 

Steve writhed beneath him, ass feeling like one gigantic bruise, almost as if he’d been torn all the way up to his mouth, pain vivid and crimson beneath his eyelids. It took him a whistling breath before he forced his eyes open, only to find Bucky so close that he was a big blur, eyes gleaming wildly.

“You holding up?” It was a whisper; gentle, concerned, husky, words spoken so close that Steve felt them wash over his lips. 

Mind and mouth disconnected, all he could do was to offer a shaky nod. Bucky shifted the slightest. Steve whimpered, clenching around the big cock holding him open; both aching and sweating over the feeling as if Bucky was poking his fluttering heart. 

“Want me to pull out?” he asked. It wasn’t a loaded question – wasn’t filled with hope or expectation, which made it worse. Churning beneath that sharp, throbbing pain was the fear, the dread that he was ruining the moment. If the ache wasn’t enough for him to go soft, that feeling was.

“No—no, no,” Steve said quickly, breathless and hating how hollow it came out – how it sounded like a lie. He willed his eyes open, not even realizing he’d closed them again “I can take it.” 

“‘s not about that,” Bucky mumbled, the tip of his nose sliding over Steve’s jaw. There was a warmth behind his voice, something tender and gentle that made Steve’s face go warm and mind turn blank. It wasn’t a fight, or something to overcome. 

Pacified by the realization, he wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck as if that would keep him there, hands squeezing into tiny fists again. “Just go slow,” he said, words coming out pleading than anything. 

Bucky kissed his throat in tender reply, teeth nibbling at the skin, lips vibrating when he hummed darkly. Then he shifted, slowly rolling his hips back, pulling out-out-out until there was only the cockhead keeping him open. Bucky’s eyes flickered up again, and they gasped in unison when he fucked back in, thrusting his stock of a cock deeper than before. 

Steve keened, brows crinkling as he didn’t even dare to blink, afraid to lose sight of the look on Bucky’s face and the way his eyes shone. The first couple of thrusts kept him on his toes. It was like pushing a bruise, but worse. 

For a breathless moment, he couldn’t imagine himself coming from this. His threshold for pain wasn’t the same as it’d once been, and right now he felt so full that it hurt. The more he tried to ignore the slow, excruciating slide of Bucky fucking him open, the more he felt it. How he felt both like a giant down there, and on top of him, bracketing him in, holding him down with nowhere to go. He couldn’t even buck his hips or shift, leaving him completely at the mercy of Bucky. 

Steve eased his hold around Bucky’s neck, pulling away enough for him to gaze down the planes of their mismatched bodies and to where they were joined, heart plummeting to the ground and shattering when he saw that Bucky hadn’t even stuffed half his cock into his ass. 

Feeling that unnerving squirm in his belly once more, he hugged Bucky desperately, eyes squeezing close as if that would tune out the ache.

“Slow,” he mumbled again, stifling a wince when Bucky rammed inside, shivering at the first slap of Bucky’s balls against his ass. He buried his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck, listening to the quiet sound as he licked his lips once, and then he pulled back slower this time—more gentle, rolling his hips forward as if he was sinking in rather than plunging. 

The slow pace somehow made the sound of skin slapping against skin even more obscene. Bucky breathed hard on top of him, making that low, strained sound every time he fucked in. Steve couldn’t tell when it started to be louder than the sound of his racing heart, but the slick sounds made their way down to his belly, rekindling that fire he thought was long gone.

There was a knife’s edge separating the pain and pleasure, but that divider was shifting thrust by thrust. The slightest shift, the tiniest change of rhythm regardless if it was slower or faster nudged that hair-fine line further and further away.

“I can come like this.” Bucky’s words were a husky whisper; the sound of his voice was like breathing into the fire. 

Steve kissed him as if that would send him over the edge, open-mouthed and desperate, one hand coming up to cradle his face, thumb rubbing over the stubble on his cheek. “Then come,” he breathed, arousal spiking at the idea of Bucky going off here and now. 

But Bucky shook his head, lips pursed tight as his eyes closed, their foreheads coming to rest against each other. “Touch yourself.” 

It was a grunting command, rough and tense. There was an explosion within him, sudden and intense, thrill and yearning making him buzz beneath Bucky. Nodding, because that was the only thing he could do, Steve let a hand wander between them, promptly shoving away the feeling of how unfamiliar his own cock felt in his hands. He gave himself a couple of encouraging squeezes, focusing on the smooth slide as Bucky filled him up again and again, cock brushing by that hopeless sweet spot that made everything feel better and better. 

“I wanna feel you come.”

Steve whined – not in reply, but as a consequence of when Bucky slowed down a fraction right there and then, making the way he fucked him open feel even more agonizing in the best of ways. The thought of Bucky slowing to keep himself from coming sent another explosion lighting every cell in Steve’s body, that hot pit of want in his belly magnifying into a damn maelstrom. 

And everything poured right down to his small cock. He was hard and throbbing, jerking himself in pace with Bucky’s fucking, both loving and hating the quick-quick-quick sensation that was mounting, building, becoming ready to explode. 

“Don’t stop,” he begged as he stroked faster, harder. “Don’t stop.” 

Bucky let out a strained noise in reply, mashing their mouths together in a greedy kiss. 

“Don’t stop—don’t stop,” Steve pleaded, fist moving in a blur over his cock. “Don’t stop, _don’tstopdon’tstop.”_

“I got you,” Bucky promised as he fucked him with mechanical precision, never faltering, never stuttering, filling him up in that same delicious, too-much way every time. Steve’s whole awareness was centered around the feel of how Bucky seemed to grow bigger and bigger every time he fucked in. 

Melting from the warmth Bucky radiated – from the pleasure coiling within him, Steve realized he was a fool for ever thinking he wouldn’t be able to come from this. It was mounting so quickly – too quick.

When he looked up, he found Bucky’s gleaming eyes staring straight into him. 

Panting hard, Steve choked on nothing but air. _“I’m—”_

Nothing could pull him away from the edge, not even if his life depended on it. It was the pull almost all the way back out, and the hard thrust back in that dragged him over the edge, hard and fast and all-consuming. He came with a howl, pleasure turning white beneath his eyelids, ass spasming maddeningly around Bucky who kept fucking him—harder, faster, almost as if egged on by the way Steve splattered both their torsos. 

Aware and away all at once, he’d no option but to take it as Bucky fucked him through his orgasm, turning more and more ruthless by each thrust, leaving Steve completely at his mercy. The pleasure spiked as his ears rang and mouth tasted blood, body arching into the mattress as if that would spare him from the rough pounding. 

It quickly reached a peak. The harder Bucky hammered into him, the quicker did the oversensitivity poke through the haze of blinding pleasure. Steve stopped stroking himself almost instantly, merely holding on as his spent cock drooled drop after drop as Bucky kept sliding right into that sweet spot within him, milking out the last drops of spunk. 

If Bucky had felt huge before, it was nothing compared to now. He fucked Steve with a single-minded goal, furrowed brow sheening and eyes low on the mess between them. Steve slung his arms around Bucky’s neck again, holding on for dear life, stomach clenching and unclenching by each thrust as he trembled beneath him. He was whining, mewling, whimpering every time Bucky’s balls slapped against his ass, cock going so deep that he could practically taste it. 

“I’m gonna come,” Bucky whispered, voice breaking with lust. 

It made Steve shiver as he held onto him harder. He watched the sweat bead at Bucky’s temples, the determination etching hard lines on his face, listened to the way he panted, felt the way his rhythm faltered more and more until he finally rammed in one last time, stilling with a throaty moan. 

Steve felt the twitch of Bucky’s cock going off, warmth spreading inside. Bucky ground his hips against him hard and unforgiving, chasing those last licks of pleasure. The tension pumped out of him like the spunk shooting from his dick, because before Steve knew it, Bucky was already turning heavy on top of him. Arm whirring, he braced himself on his elbows instead of hands, mashing their chests together. 

Steve winced at the weight, at the sticky sensation of getting his own spunk pressed into his skin. He felt every rise and fall of Bucky’s chest, short and shallow, straining for depth. Hands running down Bucky’s neck, feeling the polar points of his shoulders beneath his palms, he noticed how he was almost burning from the inside out. 

Out of breath, sweaty, and very much alive. 

After seventy years in their respective iceboxes, and one intergalactic war, the fact that they were both lucky enough to live in this century, under this roof, pardoned and together was nothing short of a miracle. He’d lost Bucky back during the big war when he’d seen him fall to his death in a canyon in the middle of nowhere, unable to do anything to stop it. And he’d lost Bucky in Wakanda when he’d seen him turn to dust and scatter into the wind. Both times he’d been convinced they would never see each other again.

To feel the warmth—the weight of Bucky on top of him humbled him, as sudden as the clouds scattering and the wind shifting direction, filling his chest and heart and soul all at once. If they had survived all that, they could probably survive this as well, alien bullets and crippling asthma be damned.

“You alright, pal?” 

Steve’s gaze flickered up and their eyes met, but for a blink it might as well have been their souls touching, merging from the warmth radiating from the fucked-out smile on Bucky’s face. He put a hand against Bucky’s cheek, thumb gently rubbing the day-old stubble as they breathed each other in for a long, aimless moment. 

In and out. In and out. Breaths slowly finding depth together, eyes never breaking contact. 

Heart aching with something else but pain, Steve finally nodded once in reply. “You’re bending me in half,” he pointed out softly, loving the way Bucky’s eyes crinkled as his smile widened. 

“You can take it,” Bucky replied and then he leaned in closer, noses touching, lips brushing, sealing the words with a kiss.

Steve smiled into it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcomed. I'm also on Tumblr if you want to follow me there -- [Valerin Berenghar.](https://valerin-berenghar.tumblr.com/)


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